


What We Could Be

by Insomniact



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-24
Updated: 2013-08-14
Packaged: 2017-12-21 04:56:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/896049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insomniact/pseuds/Insomniact
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony and Steve go to MIT together. Fast forward 15 years, after the serum and Red Skull, after Afghanistan and The Ten Rings. Now there's this guy with a trench coat telling them that they need to work together, or the fate of the world could be at risk.</p><p>Really, they should have seen this coming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically my attempt at writing a slow build, and usually before I start writing something, I have pretty much the entire thing planned out in my head beforehand, but I have very little about this story figured out right now.
> 
> The events of all of the movies leading up to The Avengers still happen, but with some notable changes to make up for the time difference. I will explain the most relevant changes in the story.
> 
> This first chapter is just a prologue sort of thing, a short glimpse into their lives in college.
> 
> I hope you enjoy! I'm excited to see where this goes.

Bucky was currently trying to dissuade him from faking his information to enlist in the army yet again. It wouldn’t bother Steve, if this wasn’t the fifth time he’s brought up this topic within the last month.

It wasn’t like Steve was going to change his mind, anyway. He doesn’t even know why Bucky still tries to convince him anymore. Everything that can be said on this topic has been said already, and now they’re basically just following a script.

“Seriously Steve, you have a free ride to one of the country’s most prestigious schools and you still want to try to join the army, again. How many times is this now, fifteen?”

Steve ignored that, because he has not done it fifteen times. The real number is closer to half that, really.

Besides, he will get in one of these times. He just has to get lucky, find the right person who will give Steve his chance to prove himself.

“It is not a free ride, Buck,” he says impatiently while locking the door to his dorm room. “I am required to maintain a GPA of 3.7 or higher or else I lose the scholarship.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, where he was standing slightly to Steve’s left.

“Yeah, that must be so hard,” he drawled, and leaned against the wall as Steve turned to face him. “What with your 4.1 GPA in high school and all. I still don’t even understand how that was possible.”

“Lot of extra credit and positive grading curves,” Steve huffed exasperatedly, with the barest hint of amusement. “But high school and college are two very different things.”

“Yeah, how so?” Bucky asked, with a raised eyebrow that said nothing but _I don’t believe you._

“Well for one thing, you can’t sleep through half of your classes, skip the other half, and still manage to graduate.”

Bucky laughed. “Maybe I should test that theory.”

“Yeah, I’m sure your professors would appreciate that.” Steve shook his head as he turned away from Bucky.

Bucky came up beside Steve, towering over the blonde by nearly a foot, he swung an arm around Steve’s shoulders while grinning at him wildly. He opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by another voice, yelling from down the hall.

“HEY BLONDIE!”

Steve turned, Bucky’s arm slipping from around his shoulders, to see a dark haired teen walking towards him, wearing a confident grin and some expensive looking sunglasses.

“Uh, hey Tony,” he says, trying to keep the confusion at the sudden intrusion off of his face. He’s just going to be grateful that his and Bucky’s conversation was interrupted.

Tony stops a couple feet away from them, glances at Bucky with a considering twist of his lips before turning back to Steve after a moment, offering the blond an exuberant smile.

Even being three years younger, Tony still makes Steve looks like a stick in comparison, a few inches taller and already showing some muscle definition.

“Yeah, I’m having a party on Saturday,” he says, tapping his sunglasses down with his index finger to look at Steve with his dark brown eyes. “You should come.”

“Uh, I’ll think about it,” Steve replies carefully with a polite smile.

That seems to be enough for Tony, as he nods and slips his glasses back into their correct position. “Alright, I’ll give you the details during class on Wednesday.”

“Okay, see you then.” Steve looks up at Bucky to see him frowning at the genius in thought. Steve almost has the urge to elbow him in the waist.

Tony turns towards Bucky too, and tilts his head. “Oh, you can come too if you want,” he adds casually, and turns away, giving them a wave over his shoulder. “Bye Steve.”

Bucky continues to frown for a minute, and Steve watches him patiently.

“Is that kid even old enough to go here?” he asks eventually.

“I guess,” Steve responds with a shrug, turning back around towards the exit.

“But he’s like 12.”

“He’s 17, Bucky.”

Which Steve only knows because Tony introduces himself in every class with ‘Yes, I am 17, yes, I am graduating at the end of this year, and no, my dad did not buy my way into this school.’

It usually only gets him an unimpressed stare and a curt ‘please sit down’ from the professors, but it doesn’t stop him.

“And he’s in college?” Bucky inquires, tone saturated with disbelief.

“He’s smart.”

 “Clearly too smart for his own good,” Bucky points out.

He can agree with that. Tony can be somewhat immature at times. He has a tendency to be extremely insolent or vulgar, especially around people who belittle him for his age, or for being the rich kid.

Steve understands how people might find the genius too abrasive, but Steve assumes that he’s just trying to overcompensate for being in a world he doesn’t fully belong in, though, where he doesn’t really feel like he fits in. The other students here are a couple years older than him, at least, and most people his age in the same position probably wouldn’t handle that situation as well as he has.

Honestly, he kind of admires the guy for that.

Bucky turns to Steve with a smirk. “Why didn’t you tell me you were friends with Tony Stark?”

“We’re not friends. Not really,” Steve explains, making his way outside, with Bucky right behind him. “We’ve been in a few classes together, and we’ve hung out outside of them occasionally, but mostly for tutoring purposes. I wouldn’t have passed that math class last semester without him.”

When Steve really thinks about it, they probably are friends, at least more so than before.

The first time Steve saw Tony, he had barged into class wearing his signature sunglasses, some dingy band t-shirt, and his winner-take-all attitude. All eyes were on him instantly, and he was eating up the attention. Then he proceeded to sit down right next to Steve, and the blond groaned – to himself, of course, because anything else would have been plain rude.

But the genius’ enthusiasm is infectious, and as time when on he started finding himself becoming more and more comfortable around Tony, and even came to look forward to the classes he shared with the younger guy.

Even if Tony was constantly interrupting him during class because he was bored or suddenly caught with an ingenuous idea, both options not having the best track record as far as collateral damage is concerned.

“Wait,” Bucky says, and Steve looks up at him to see him scrunching his face up disbelievingly. “He’s tutoring you? Are you paying him for it?”

“ _Was_ tutoring me,” Steve corrects, the class they are in together right now is Art History, and Steve has actually found himself having to help Tony through the course a few times. He doesn’t even understand how the genius ended up in such an odd class for an engineer, but whenever he asks Tony just groans a pathetic ‘I don’t want to talk about it’ and pouts hard enough to sap the anger out of an enraged bull. “But no,” he scowls. “I kept offering to pay him, but he always refused.”

“Of course you would,” Bucky snorts, and pats him on the shoulder a couple times. “He invites you to his parties though, I’m pretty sure that means you guys are friends.”

Steve raises his eyebrow at Bucky mockingly. “He invites the whole school to his parties.”

“These must be quite the parties, then,” Bucky notes with a wondrous smile.

Steve just hums, because as he has never gone to one before, he can’t confirm or deny that.

He and Bucky walk for a few minutes in silence.

“So, are you going to go?” Bucky questions eventually.

“Probably not, I have work to do,” Steve answers dismissively, rubbing a hand up his other arm.

“Ugh,” Bucky sighs, “you always have work to do. Why not go out and have some fun just this once?”

“Because fun isn’t going to get me good grades.”

“You’re not going to fail your classes by going out for one night,” Bucky does an over-the-top roll of his eyes. “Besides, that’s what weekends are for.”

“Getting drunk, passing out, and waking up in weird places?” Steve asks dryly.

“Now you’re starting to get it.” Bucky laughs softly. “Seriously though, I’ll go with you, if you want.”

“You just want an excuse to go now.”

“Yeah, so, go to the party for me?” Bucky was giving him some serious puppy dog eyes now, but it only made Steve laugh.

“Maybe,” he decided, because there were worse ways to spend his free time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a terribly long time to write, and I have no excuse for that besides the fact that I am lazy. Sorry about that, hopefully later chapters don't take nearly as long.
> 
> Couple of things: Steve is 35, Tony is 32. Pepper and Tony never dated and Tony is still the CEO of SI.

Tony strolls into the conference room, looking just as dashing as usual. He plastered a press conference smile on his face, not looking forward to this meeting in the least.

He doesn’t even know why he’s here, honestly. Fury made it pretty clear that he wasn’t interested in Tony Stark beyond the intelligence he could provide.

And he is _not_ going to be a consultant for their magical adventures.

Besides, this supposed ‘Avengers Initiative’ was said to have been scrapped.

Not that Tony is surprised the truth was withheld from him. It would be nice to not be treated like a flunky though, when they’re going to turn around and ask for his help.

As far as he can tell this whole affair is a waste of time.

He could be in his workshop at his beautiful new tower right now, creating stuff. Wonderful stuff. Things that would change the world, like that new water filtration system he has been tinkering with lately, because he’s just that good.

But Because Pepper couldn’t say no to Fury’s request for a meeting, here he is.

He walks around the table to the front of the conference room where Fury is currently glaring at him.

“Glad you could join us, Mr. Stark,” he grits, but Tony ignores him, too busy taking in all of the occupants of the room.

Natalie – Natasha, whatever – is sitting up at the front on the left, with some guy with a purple arrow on his chest residing beside her, hand gripped tight on a bow lying in front of him on the table. On the other side of Natasha sits a fidgety looking guy with salt and pepper hair, wearing a plaid button up and khakis.

Tony looks up, and frowns.

This guy seems … somewhat familiar. He has distinctly blond hair, packing an entirely unnecessary amount of muscle. He has a star on his chest, and is scowling like he is offended by the mere sight of Tony. And he might be, because Tony’s done a lot of things in his time, some of which he doesn’t quite recall with complete clarity. It’s a possibility that that is why he seems so familiar.

It makes him uncomfortable.

Tony shakes off the feeling though, leaving that to sort out later. Or never.

He looks at the last guy at the table, at the opposite end. Another blond haired bodybuilder, covered in armor that looks like it was made for a Hollywood blockbuster, and this guy is even buffer, if that’s possible.

Tony grins and looks up at Fury. “Hello Nick.” Then Natasha. “Hey _Natalie_.” She rolls her eyes, but somehow she makes it look graceful, and Tony can’t help but thinking that’s a little scary.

“Why do you guys look like you’re getting ready for a parade?” he asks as he waves his arms around to incorporate all of them, and points at the long haired guy at the end of the table with an inventively cocked eyebrow. “Seriously, what is with Conan over here?”

“Who is this Conan you speak of?” blond guy #2 inquires, clenching his fists, as the rest of the occupants at the table exchange various looks. “I am Thor Odinson, of Asgard.”

“That’s cute, Cupcake.”

Thor frowns and mouths ‘cupcake?’ at who he supposes is Captain America – if the spangles are anything to go by, at least – sitting next to him.

“Did you not read the briefing packet Agent Coulson sent you?” Fury asks irritably, but Tony ignores him again, because of course he didn’t, he has enough paperwork to deal with already, ‘enough’ meaning more than none, obviously.

Instead he zeroes in on the small guy hunching in on himself, looking like he wants to be here even less than Tony.

“Bruce Banner?” He raises his eyebrow again, this time out of curiosity, and the other guy nods. “How did they rope you into this?”

He coughs awkwardly and stands, reaching his arm out for a handshake. “Uh, I’m just here as a consultant.”

Tony takes his hand and snorts. “Yeah, that’s what they told me too.”

“Dr. Banner is here because he has special skills we are interested in,” Fury explains, surprisingly patiently.

“Yes, the turning into a giant green rage monster thing,” Tony responds, nodding his head wisely. “I am quite a big fan of that myself.”

“Banner is the leading expert on gamma radiation,” Natasha clarifies, speaking to Banner more so than Tony.

Blond guy #1 leans on the table and chimes in with: “The cube.”

Tony narrows his eyes at him.

“Is that your band name? Are you the singer?” he queries, looking at Thor.

He seems to consider this for a moment.

“Sif tells me I have a most harmonious voice.”

Tony sees the archer trying to cover up a snicker, too slow.

Director Fury clears his throat. “The Tesseract,” he clarifies roughly. “It’s acting up.”

Captain America’s ever present frown deepens at that. Tony would like to assume it’s because he’s trying to stop himself from making the ‘Tesseracting up’ pun, but this guy probably doesn’t do jokes that don’t end with a moral lesson.

Tony smiles at Fury.

“And by that do you mean you’ve lost control of it?”

“How do you lose control of an inanimate object?” the archer asks disbelievingly.

Fury sighs. “We believe an unknown force is interfering with it.”

“An Asgardian?” Thor rumbles lowly, apparently not liking where this discussion is going.

“Possibly,” Fury decides after some thought.

Captain Frowny-Face clears his throat. “Sir, I still don’t understand what we were called here for.”

Director Fury looks around the room, at each of the occupants, and ends on Dr. Banner.

“Banner is here to make sure we _do not_ lose control of the cube. _You,_ ” he stresses, looking at the captain, “are a backup plan, in case anything should actually happen.”

“Perfect!” Tony announces, clapping his hands together excitedly. “Looks like I am not needed then,” he starts as he backs his way out of the conference room. “And seeing as I have places to be, companies to run, things to build,” he continues, steamrolling over whatever Fury is trying to say. “I just don’t have time to be in your secret boy band.”

He can’t see Natasha’s face anymore, but he assumes she did not take well to that comment, and if this were any other time he would make a crack about equal opportunities, but being in this room makes him a little itchy and he has no idea why.

“You know how we narcissists are,” he says, giving an exaggerated salute and a pointed wink. “Bye-bye, Nick.”

 

 

 

Steve thinks this definitely gets the award for the single most uncomfortable meeting he has ever had the displeasure of being a part of.

And that’s including the time his drunk superior fell asleep on his shoulder.

He never expected to see Tony Stark again after their time together at MIT.

They have lived two completely different lives, with Steve being in the army and Tony running a Fortune 500 company. And not long after Steve started active duty, Tony stopped producing weapons for the military, further defining the assumption that the two of them would never cross paths again.

Fury didn’t even tell him Tony would be here. He told Steve almost nothing about the mission, actually. He just showed up, talked about how the country needs his help, and Steve had reluctantly agreed, because although he abhors the idea of jumping from one government controlled system to another, he had made a pretty compelling argument. Which was basically ‘millions of lives could be in danger.’ Then he brought up that damned cube, and really, how was he supposed to say no to that?

So it was quite the shock when the man himself walked into the room, stealing the spotlight just as easily as he was able to all of those years ago.

Steve can’t help but wonder if Tony recognized him as well. It didn’t seem like it. Tony had briefly considered him with a face of confusion, but it was more of the ‘are you _really_ wearing that?’ kind that he still gets every so often, rather than the starstruck like expression of someone seeing an old friend.

Steve was left unable to speak just at his presence, watching him run the show. Once pertinent issues were brought up, however, he was able to regain his composure.

He thinks idly that maybe it would be easier if Tony doesn’t find out who he is. He no longer seems like the misplaced teenager he used to be. All of his defenses have hardened, leaving the man cynical and uncouth, and Steve doesn’t know if he could stand the person he has become. Just being in the same room with him for a few minutes has left him nervous and disoriented, like he’s climbing down a flight of stairs blindfolded.

Still, Steve can’t help but wonder how different things would be if the two of them had kept in touch.

“I like him,” Barton decides after Tony exits the room.

The Director grunts. “Banner, if you’ll follow me. I’ll take you to your workspace.”

He gets up carefully, and they both walk out.

“So Thor, this cube is from your world, right? You must know a lot about it,” Clint says, and Thor nods. “Care to let the rest of the class know anything we might find useful?”

“I believe if the Tesseract is ‘acting up,’ as he says, it is already too late for the doctor to be of any use.” He grips the hammer handle secured around his waist. “Whoever this third party is who seeks the cube, their plan has already been put into action, and even if it could be stopped, I do not believe we have the resources here to do so.”

“Is there anything we can do?” Natasha asks, seemingly not affected by the new information. “What should we be preparing for?”

“I am afraid I do not know.”

They all sit for a moment, letting this new information sink in.

“Natalie?” Steve directs at Romanov, curiosity getting the best of him.

“I went undercover at Stark Industries not too long ago,” she explains with a smile, Barton snorts.

“He still hasn’t forgiven her for stabbing him.”

Steve eyes go wide.

“I saved his life,” she clarifies, and kicks Barton under the table, which would be hard to notice for how little she moves, if it weren’t for the archer yelping in protest and reaching for his shin.

 

 

 

It is two days after the meeting, and Tony is back in Malibu now, in his regular workshop. He has holed himself down here, trying to collect information on Fury and his goons. The so called briefing packet didn’t tell him much, but he had expected that. It wouldn’t be Shield if he didn’t have to figure out most of the relevant information by himself.

Tony already knew enough about Dr. Banner, having followed his research for a while now. And years ago, when the green guy first made an appearance, you couldn’t turn on a TV without seeing _someone_ voice their opinion on the mess.

He couldn’t find much information on either of the agents, even in Shield’s own records – or at least, the ones he could access remotely. He would have to make a trip back to the helicarrier if he wanted the real stuff.

There is even less he could dig up about Thor.

Sparkly explosion in the desert blah blah Jane Foster blah blah Merlin’s hammer blah blah, is basically all anyone knows about him so far, and he finds it all terribly uninteresting. Though if you include all of the mythology he’s read lately Tony is fairly certain he now knows more about the god than he does himself.

There’s more information available about Captain America, but not as much as Tony would like.

Nobody knows for sure who he was before donning the stars and stripes. They know his name is Steve Rogers, but that’s a pretty generic name, and there are some people who believe it’s only an alias. As far as Tony can tell, he never comments on it when asked.

Tony has watched a couple of his interviews, and he rarely ever mentions any family members. No siblings, as far as he can tell. The Captain talks about his mother a couple times – always with a bit of sadness, and Tony can guess what that’s about – but it’s always in passing, and he never mentions her by name.

What they do know for sure is that 8 years ago he came out of nowhere to star in the eponymous movie. After a few years of various TV spots, movie cameos, talk show gigs, he went overseas to meet the troops, and somehow ended up single handedly saving an entire platoon of POWs.

How he went from that, to apparently working for shield, though, is still a mystery.

It also leaves him with the question of why the guy seemed so familiar. Tony definitely thinks he would remember meeting the personification of the American flag.

Not only that, but Tony got the feeling that he actually knew him, and he wasn’t just some sort of casual acquaintance he bumped into at an art gallery or something.

Maybe they met before he became a household name?

He scrunches his face. “Jarvis, call Pepper.”

There’s a ring – only once – and then a click.

“Pepper, do you know anything about Captain America?”

“I’ve heard he doesn’t where anything under the suit.”

Huh.

“You know, you answered that very fast. Really, very fast. Did you expect this call? Are you reading my mind?” That would be a scary thought, Pepper with mind reading abilities. He shivers at the idea.

“You give me too little credit.”

She sounds pleased. That’s a good sign. Maybe this conversation won’t end with Pepper hanging up on him, which happens far too frequently for Tony’s liking.

Tony would fire her, because assistants should not hang up on their bosses, but she’s become far more than just an ordinary assistant, and he would be lost at sea in a leaky canoe – probably manufactured by Hammer Industries – without her, so really she can hang up with him as much as she likes, if it keeps her sanity intact.

He knows it must be hard to deal with him sometimes.

He should try to make it easier on her.

“Are you interested? I could probably introduce you two.”

Well that plan failed in record time.

She’s rolling her eyes right now, he can feel it, because that’s another thing that happens around him all too often.

“Board meeting tomorrow, Tony,” she says, and all of the amusement is gone now, replaced with exasperation, a tone he is intimately familiar with. “Be there, or I’ll accept that invitation for you to speak at that graduation ceremony next month.”

Tony cringes. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

“Pepper you sound worryingly happy about the possibility of making my life a living hell,” he whines, and Pepper laughs. “But really, I did have a reason to call besides wanting to be harassed by you.”

She hums and Tony hears a faint tapping sound on the other end. “Captain America?”

“Yeah,” he says, a little too loudly. “Doesn’t he seem suspicious to you?”

“How so?”

“Have you seen what he wears?” He questions incredulously. “He looks like something from a comic book.”

“Tony—”

He stops her before she’s able to get anything out, already knowing where that statement is going to go. “My multi-billion dollar, highly advanced suit of pilotable armor is a work of art, Pepper.” He throws his hands up in the air for effect, even though she can’t see it. “Saying anything else is just blasphemy.”

Tony frowns, because she’s laughing at him now, but at least she has the decency to try and muffle the sound through the speakers.

“Yes, your mobile midlife crisis complete with the sports car paint job is definitely classier.”

“So much classier,” he confirms blithely, ignoring the fact that he’s much too young to be having a midlife crisis.

She continues to laugh at him, so Tony trudges on defiantly.

“He was an actor.” Tony can admit that he wasn’t that bad, at least for his first movie. “And now he’s a high ranking officer in the military?”

She sniffles through her mirth, and then hums again, smaller this time.

“Doesn’t that seem a little suspicious?” Tony pushes.

“A little, yeah, but really Tony, does it even matter? What do you think, that he’s a Russian spy sent to gather intelligence on us?”

No, Natasha already has that job covered.

“Of course not,” is his actual answer.

“So what’s the problem?”

“I don’t know,” he replies after a beat, scratching his head in irritation.

Tony hears a soft noise, and it sounds like a distant sigh, as if Pepper has pulled her mouth away from the phone.

“I have to go, Tony. We’ll talk later?”

“Yeah.”

“Remember, board meeting, or speech.”

He says, “yeah, yeah, yeah,” but only gets through two of them before the line cuts out. Tony doesn’t know if that counts as Pepper hanging up on him or not.

 

 

 

This is a bad idea. This is such a bad idea.

Fury decided Steve should meet with Tony Stark again to try to persuade him to join their team.

He was about to suggest Dr. Banner go in his place, because they seemed to get along pretty well. Then he thought better of it. It would be best to keep the doctor out of stressful situations, and that is not the kind of atmosphere Tony Stark usually provides.

So here he is, at Stark Industries in California.

He met with the receptionist at the front desk, but when he said he needed to meet with Mr. Stark she just looked at him dully.

Agent Coulson gave him a card that he assured would take Steve where he needs to go, but he doesn’t want to just barge in unannounced.

The lady behind the desk went to pick up the phone but another person stepped in then, extending a hand and introducing herself as Ms. Potts, Tony Stark’s assistant. He took her hand, told her his name, and she raised a petite eyebrow up at him, pointing him in the right direction and telling him Tony will be glad to see him. And that would have been comforting, if she hadn’t said it with a voice that reeked of saccharin.

Steve would have turned back around right then, but he has a job to do, and he’s not one to turn tail and run, even when it might be the smarter thing to do.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to talk to Stark.

Well, actually, he _doesn’t_ want to talk to him.

When he thinks about it, he can only come up with two options as to why Stark might have avoided bringing up their time at MIT. It certainly wouldn’t have been the wisest move, trying to catch up with an old friend in the middle of a business meeting, but Tony isn’t exactly known for his delicacy. So, logically, either Stark pretended to not recognize him, or he really didn’t know who he was.

And both of those options make Steve’s teeth hurt.

15 years is a large span of time, and Stark meets a plethora of people on a near daily basis. So it’s understandable if the genius doesn’t remember everyone he comes into contact with, but they knew each other for 2 years, and gaining a foot of height and 150 pounds of muscle doesn’t change that.

So Steve can’t help but feel a little put out by it.

Add that onto the fact that Stark is refusing to help _save the world_ because it’s an inconvenience to him and it really leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

He stops in front of the door Ms. Potts directed him to, and takes a long, deep breath. It won’t do him any good going in riled up. He’s a tactician after all, and he knows how to handle delicate situations.

A hand comes up to rap on the door a couple times, and he is almost immediately assaulted by a resonant voice coming from inside the room.

“Dammit Pepper, I told you there’s no need to knock.” It gets louder and louder as it continues, until he can hear it right next to the wall. “It’s not like you’re going to see anything you—” He swings the door open and stops, bringing his head up to look Steve in the eyes. “Oh.”

Stark gives him a suspicious look.

“Uh, hi,” Steve says simply, aiming for polite. “Your assistant told me where I could find you.”

Stark grunts, but moves away from the door, apparently letting him in. “And she asks me why I never come into the office.”

Steve follows him inside, and closes the door behind him.

“You’re wearing regular clothes,” Stark points out, walking back to his desk.

“People tell me wearing the suit 6 days in a row is unhygienic.”

A brief image of confusion passes Stark’s face as he turns back towards the blond, before being replaced with a cheeky smile. “It looks good on you. The non-red-white-and-blue theme, that is.”

Steve doesn’t know how to reply to that, so he says nothing, as Stark stands beside his desk, grabbing a pen and tapping it against the surface rhythmically.

“Do I know you?” he asks eventually, giving him that same look of suspicion from earlier.

So he does recognize him, if only partially. Steve honestly can’t say if that’s better than the alternative.

He considers playing dumb, blowing off the question with a ‘how so?’ or ‘I’m Steve Rogers, AKA Captain America,’ but he decides giving an outright answer is the best course of action.

“We went to MIT together, so I would hope so.” He can’t help it if the reply is a bit harsher than he intended.

Stark’s eyes widen comically – Steve doesn’t think the genius gets caught off guard too often, so he can’t help the little thrill of amusement that passes through him at that – and the tapping has stopped. He sets down the pen to take a couple steps toward Steve.

“Steve,” he muses mostly to himself, with a finger against his mouth and his head turned downward at the floor. He brings it back up, with his nose scrunched up in doubt. “Blondie?”

The way he says it, like it’s a law against nature, makes Steve’s fists clench.

“Is that so hard to believe?” he asks with a tick of his jaw.

Stark is _examining_ the blond, like he’s a piece of machinery the genius wants to dismantle and rebuild to figure out exactly what’s going on inside.

Steve takes a step back, and Stark meets him in the eyes, and frowns, seemingly now just realizing he was spoken to. He squints incredulously.

“You were like four feet tall.”

“Four feet five,” Steve corrects indignantly.

“I had a robot taller than you,” he says with a smile, and then refocuses, biting his lip. “How?” he inquires, as he gestures to the whole of Steve.

He holds back an eye roll.

This is not by any means the discussion he wanted to have, but of course it would never be that easy, not when you’re dealing with The Tony Stark.

Steve figured he would already know about the serum, anyway. He should know. His dad worked on the earlier stages of the program, after all.

And if he didn’t get the information from that, or from Fury, there were certainly less legal methods of data gathering that Steve is sure Stark has no problems with employing when it suits his needs.

Maybe he’s toying with him, to avoid the topic Steve came to address.

Well, two can play at that game.

“Milk.”

Stark huffs. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?” he asks with an inquisitively curved corner of his mouth, and a matching eyebrow.

“Do you really not know?” Steve sighs.

Stark’s gnawing on his lip now. Steve can see the wheels turning in his head, and he realizes this isn’t just about his new stature.

Stark is considering Steve, not Captain America, like he’s now a completely different person.

He no longer feels like he’s being tested, like he has to prove himself. The tension in his gut begins to uncoil the slightest bit.

“Super soldier serum,” the blond provides uneasily.

Stark gnaws on his bottom lip some more, less passively now, but looking somewhat angry.

“Howard said that project was a bust.”

“He was wrong,” Steve defends immediately, not being able to control himself, and Stark laughs.

He turns around and shakes his head. When he gets to his desk chair, he looks back at Steve with a small smile. “Certainly wouldn’t be the first time.”

Stark coughs after a minute, looking down at his empty chair, at his hand grabbing the arm rest closest to him.

“So,” he begins, prolonged. “You disappeared the same year that I graduated.”

He did, and he doesn’t want to get into the inevitable conversation of why, so he tries to change the subject.

“You do remember me then?”

“Well, yeah,” Tony says, throwing up a hand. “Took me a while, though.”

“My name didn’t tip you off?” He smirks faintly, though it feels displaced, the rigidness of his features not entirely dissipating yet.

Tony looks a little sheepish at that, which Steve thinks is probably an unusual thing for him.

“I didn’t actually know your last name.” he says, shrugging, though it lacks the necessary casualness. “Or, I didn’t remember it. I doubt I went through all that time without hearing it at least once. But do you know how many Steve Rogers live in New York?”

Steve feels his blank stare is answer enough to that question.

“Yeah me neither,” Stark continues. “But I’m sure it’s in the triple digits, at least.”

That’s probably accurate. Rogers is a pretty common last name.

“So where’s that other guy, the one who was always hanging around you when you weren’t in class?”

Steve looks away. It’s been years now, but he still can’t bring himself to talk about it so casually.

“Ah, that topic is off limits, then,” Stark says uncomfortably. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine,” Steve replies, turning back and trying to meet the brown eyes as they roam around the room. “It’s just not something I like to dwell on.”

Stark just nods, and after a small span of silence, he clears his throat, and gestures to the chair sitting on the opposite end of his desk.

“I assume you didn’t come here to reminisce about our youth.” He sits in his chair, smile growing with an air of artificiality. “Fury sent you? Come here to talk me into joining your cheerleading squad again?”

Steve disregards that, and settles in his own chair. “I don’t understand why you’re refusing.”

“What I don’t understand is why the refusal is necessary,” Stark returns with a raised eyebrow.

Steve leans forward in his chair, places his hands on top of each other on the desk, and looks at the other man with eyes of utter determination.

“If something does go down, if the backup plan turns out to be necessary.” Stark laughs, but Steve continues through it. “We’re going to need someone else with flight capabilities. We’re going to need you.”

“Backup plan,” Stark mocks. “A billionaire, a war hero, two master assassins. A god, for Christ’s sake.”

“Demi-god,” Steve corrects, twitching involuntarily at the language, but Stark just grins messily and waves him off.

“Fury’s secrets have secrets. And those secrets are stabbing the other secrets to make sure they don’t talk,” he explains, making a redundant stabbing motion that belongs in a cartoon. “Do you really think Fury brought us all together as a backup plan?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Steve replies honestly, because of course he’s thought about that. Not all of the pieces here add up, and he’s smart enough to figure that out. Fury’s hiding something, and he will figure out what that is, _when the time comes_. “Do you even know what the Tesseract is capable of?”

“Does anybody know what it’s capable of?”

Fair point, Steve supposes, but he would rather not find out what exactly its limits are – if any exist – if he can help it.

“Our first priority is finding whoever or whatever is tampering with it, stop them, and make sure it stays under control.”

Stark sits back in his chair, considering.

“And what if we can’t?” he asks thoughtfully. “What then?”

“I guess that’s up to you,” Steve proposes. He gets up and walks back to the door. He’s done all the good he can do here. Their interaction so far has been more civil than Steve had hoped for, so best to make a strategic exit before everything goes south. “Goodbye, Stark.”

 

 

 

“Don’t worry, I got everything under control,” Tony says, stepping off of the suit disassembly rig.

“Are you sure? I can fly out there in an hour if you need me.”

“Pep, it’s fine, really. Totally and absolutely unnecessary. Contracts are signed, reactor is in place, lights are up. It’s beautiful, I can send you a picture if you want?”

Tony takes the phone out of his pocket and brings it up to his face to give Pepper a winning smile.

“No, Tony.”

“Really, you act as if I can’t handle anything on my own. I am a grown man. I lived through like 20 years of my life before I met you. That’s a long time. Do you know what happened 20 years ago, Pepper? Wayne’s World.”

“Tony, last week you called me because you couldn’t remember what you liked on your pizza.” She sounds like an interesting combination of amused and annoyed, something Tony thinks only Pepper could pull off.

“Hmm, point. But to be fair, I had been awake for over 50 hours at that point.”

“Oh,” Pepper laughs. “Is that supposed to make you seem _more_ responsible?”

Tony frowns. She might be right, but if he has to give up his weeklong benders in the workshop to be considered responsible, he’ll pass. Those are the times when he is most productive.

“Sir, Agent Coulson of Shield is on the line,” Jarvis cuts in neatly to the lull in conversation.

“Phil?” Pepper inquires.

“Phil? Uh, his first name is Agent.”

She’s giving him her ‘I am not impressed with you right now’ look.

“Better take that, Tony. I have a dinner date to get to anyway. Don’t forget to bring those contracts back with you.”

“Date?” he raises his eyebrow. Is his assistant seeing someone and he doesn’t know about it? That is a countless amount of kinds of not okay. And he can count incredibly high.

“Bye, Tony.”

The call ends, and is replaced by another call waiting screen. Tony scrunches his face at it and tosses the phone onto the couch, simultaneously sitting down a couple feet away.

The elevator doors open and Tony looks up to see Coulson entering.

“You can’t keep telling me to stop hacking your shit if you’re gonna keep doing the same thing,” he says, pushing himself up from the couch resentfully and walking towards the other man.

“We need you to look this over.” He pulls up a file. “Soon as possible.”

“If it’s anything like the last one you gave me, I’m sure there’s nothing in there I couldn’t get off of Wikipedia.”

Coulson smiles and pushes the file out more. “I believe you might find this one worth your time.”

“I don’t like being handed things.” He points to a table a few feet away, and Coulson places it there. “Tony Stark, no. I saw that, in paper. Am I the only one who knows what that means?” he questions, walking over to the file. “Volatile, self-obsessed, don’t play well with others. None of that has changed.”

“This isn’t about personality profiles anymore.”

“Whatever,” he replies, opening the file. “Jarvis?”

“Already done, Sir.”

Both Coulson and Tony look at the now lit displays on the opposite side of the room. Tony nods towards the agent and walks up to the screens. He peruses the many images and videos, before grabbing out a holographic representation of the Tesseract, and turning it around in his hand.


End file.
